


in memory

by kaori



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 22:10:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3427370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaori/pseuds/kaori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a reason why Eggsy couldn't shoot the dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in memory

It's been a month; enough time to step into the shoes of Galahad.

Eggsy doesn't quite fill it, never quite will. Harry Hart wasn't the sort of man you could become, not in a million years. Eggsy's like the moon trying to be the sun, striking and larger-than-life from a distance, but not quite as brilliant or as big as a brightly burning star. He's a poor imitation, but there's some merit in keeping Harry's memory alive.

(Roxy started calling him creepy, with that vexingly concerned crease between her brows, when he started emulating Harry's speech pattern down to every subtle little nuance. He'd smile—Harry's smile—because if Roxy noticed his efforts then he's clearly doing something right.)

Sitting here, in front of Harry's grave, he feels a little silly. He'd never gone to his father's grave for a conversation; never known the man, never known what to say. And Harry's body isn't actually six feet under—he's ash, scattered to the wind and wholly out of reach.

(It hadn't made it any easier, standing in front of an empty, unopened casket, feeling like Harry could stroll right up to him at any second, heavy hand on his shoulder, umbrella knocking into his elbow.)

It's taken a month, but Eggsy's finally made it back to Harry's grave since the funeral. He doesn't quite know what to say.

"I saved the world, even met a princess. I guess if it's that kinda movie we'll live hap— " He breaks off with a grimace, humour falling flat when his words catch up to his brain. "I wish it was, that kinda story I mean. Would've been happy with that." He means something else entirely, but no one's there to catch the way his words hitch. 

"Knew you'd be disappointed, that I couldn't shoot JB." Eggsy leans forward on the gravestone, fingers pressing over the inscription.

"But if I was that kinda person, I would've driven right over that stray back when I jacked Rottweiler's car. Could've gotten clean away from the coppers easy. But I hesitated." Eggsy knocks his head against the cold, hard, unforgiving stone.

"That's how you found me. You sav—" he cuts off the line of thought, fists clenching. "Wasn't gonna call that number if I wasn't desperate, wasn't gonna meet you if I ran over that cat."

"I ain't ever gonna regret that Harry. I couldn't explain it to you then, not when…"

Eggsy presses his face into his knees and drags the cap low over his head. He's hiding from a dead man, trying to think of all the things he should say, wants to say, but there's just too many feelings getting in the way.

It takes him a moment. Ten. Hours enough that the sun's now skirting along the horizon.

"Thank you." Eggsy's voice cracks as he says the words, because it feels like a goodbye, a proper one, and he's never felt so lost.


End file.
